


He Was Happy

by SuicidalDrummer



Series: Short Stories [1]
Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Acceptance, Depression, Grief/Mourning, Heartbreak, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Isolation, Lack of Communication, M/M, Regret, Sad Ending, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 15:38:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15688377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuicidalDrummer/pseuds/SuicidalDrummer
Summary: If you feel like anything I described or have the need to harm yourself or attempt please call these numbers according to where you live.Argentina: +5402234930430Australia: 131114Austria: 017133374Belgium: 106Bosnia & Herzegovina: 080 05 03 05Botswana: 3911270Brazil: 212339191Canada: 5147234000 (Montreal); 18662773553 (outside Montreal)Croatia: 014833888Denmark: +4570201201Egypt: 7621602Estonia: 3726558088; in Russian 3726555688Finland: 010 195 202France: 0145394000Germany: 08001810771Holland: 09000767Hong Kong: +852 2382 0000Hungary: 116123India: 8888817666Ireland: +4408457909090Italy: 800860022Japan: +810352869090Mexico: 5255102550New Zealand: 045861048Norway: +4781533300Philippines: 028969191Poland: 5270000Portugal: 21 854 07 40/8 . 96 898 21 50Russia: 0078202577577Spain: 914590050South Africa: 0514445691Sweden: 46317112400Switzerland: 143United Kingdom: 08457909090USA: 18002738255Veterans' Crisis Line: 1 800 273 8255/ text 838255





	He Was Happy

I was looking back at a recent video of the two of us, both of us smiling happily as we went through the day. He was so happy, smiling ear to ear with a rare and precious smile, one that could light up our now dark and shadowed home.. It's really not  _home_ anymore, it's more of house. A house that echoed his thick German accent, bouncing it off walls and furniture so it could reach my ears once again. I love his voice but the echoing can be too much. I also love his eyes, heterochromatic, a deep blue and a dark green flicking to every single thing in sight as he talked about the location of his current tour, being in a heavy metal band. However, his words slurred in my ears, becoming a foreign language, one I couldn't decipher in time to keep it from escaping my head and being forgotten. I've already had to watch it over and over again today, trying to understand his happy and bouncing words that seemed like lies.

I figured it was no use to even pay attention to his words anymore, I just let my eyes wander his features fully for the first time that day.. or at least for the first time in more than a week, I'd been losing track of the time around me, in turn I'd forgotten to eat, I haven't eaten in a long time. In that video, he was wearing his favourite ripped shirt, it being a shirt that used to have sleeves but it still had been promoting my photography. Around his neck were his everyday tattoos, I'd often trace them, feeling along his soft skin and making him try to shoo me away from him as he was still ticklish. When I got to his face I looked to his cheek, specifically his left, it was covered by intense makeup but I knew that's where his facial scar lied, nights of reassurances and hushed words flooded my memory when I looked. After that I didn't look there long before I landed on his hair, pure white flooded my eyes, however the roots were a pale, almost white colour. I was always fascinated by his hair, so different and genetically impossible.

He was the same with mine as well, starting off black and fading to a pale purple rather quickly, he loved everything about me, from the gray tinting of my skin, my black sclera and white eye colour, and the darker patches around my eyes. He loved my Scottish voice and my shy nature, the way I looked so fragile and breakable, especially the way he could talk to me about everything.

 

So, why didn't he tell me..?  
He looked so happy all the time, especially during a concert or after a long night when he'd come to his room on the bus and relax. He could've told me at any time, I wouldn't have tried to stop him or tell him to go away, I'll always be here for him and listen. That's what boyfriends do right.? Tell each other everything?

 

~~What am I kidding, you're not even listening.. Hell you probably don't even care..~~

But  _I_ told him everything, I told him when my thoughts were creating a storm, I told him if someone made me upset or uncomfortable, I always came to him when I had something bothering me or something was wrong. Then I turn the tables and I asked him what was wrong and all he'd do is smile and say  ** _"I'm fine."_**    
When I look back now I wish I never even believed a word his said, because now I notice everything, I even notice how he went to the bathroom after every meal and how long it would take and how much paler he'd be after. I was stupid enough to not question the bandages and gauze in the trash when I took it out, it was so painfully obvious yet _I_ ignored it. Lighters would suddenly disappear out of nowhere when I went to try and light up my blunt, and I should've known. We even ran out of liquor in a day, I just ignored it and thought that we had less than I originally thought and go out and buy more, which I wish I had never even done in the first place..

Why didn't he tell me? Was he scared I'd reject him or leave him alone? Was it me? Was  _I_ the reason why he wasn't telling me? Because I had done it? Was I not enough? Was I too fragile? Did I say something wrong? Did I ignore him? I just.. _I don't know._ I don't know.

He wrote in his note that it wasn't any of that and even though I read it every single day, I couldn't help but question whether he was lying or not, just so I wouldn't blame myself. Every time I read it, I had a new question pop into my head, similar to when I would try to read one of his most loved books.  
But couldn't he see that I love him? I thought I said it more than five times a day. Did I need to say it more often? Maybe if I bought more gifts to show just how much I love him he would've remembered.

 

I decided that torturing myself with our video was something I should stop, so I closed my phone and tossed it to the ground, not caring if I broke it or I wouldn't be able to find it. I just stared at the dresser I was facing, but at the same time, I wasn't. I felt as though the void was staring back at me, it's empty death was welcoming, however I rolled over and looked to his side. I haven't even touched anything that was his, I left everything how it was. On the bedside table laid an almost finished book and his glasses, along with his keys that were to never be used again. I wouldn't have dared touch anything, but that night I reached over to hi pillow and moved to hold it close to my body, it being cold to the touch and dusty from the months of my lack of cleaning. I could even faintly smell his cologne.

My translucent black tears began to roll down my face and drop onto his pillow, my façade of nothingness breaking as my overwhelming depression washed over me, causing a sharp and burning pain in my heart as I choked out a scream, hoarse and dry. I want him to walk in the door and toss his jacket to the ground and kick off his boots too hard and make a hole in the wall. I want him to come and hold me and tell me it was just a stupid nightmare, that I won't have to relive it every day anymore. I want to watch him take off his make up so I can see his scar. I want to hold him close and feel the scars on his back. **Why wont he come back!?**

Please come back..

Please, Scandlain.. Come back..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was then when I began to feel tired and the pain in my chest wouldn't go away and worsened, starting to cough and feel cold. I tried to move under the covers and warm myself but nothing was working, my chest was starting to feel heavy and breathing became difficult, as was keeping my eyes open. I fought everything for as long as I allowed myself to but then I realized, I don't have anything to live for anymore. I welcomed my fate as I let my eyes close and my chest fall, but I reached up and gripped the Japanese necklace he had gotten me before I gave up completely, relaxing into the bed for the first time.  
  


However I started to feel warm again, feeling flooding to my fingertips as my grip tightened on the necklace and I tried to curl up into the bed more, only to realize that the pillow was gone and I was once again alone in our dark and dreary house, forever destined to live a half life with a forever broken heart.

  
That was before a light shined on my face, making me wince and cautiously open my eyes, hoping that it wasn't someone I knew trying to persuade me from our house, however I was met with blinding light, blocking whoever it was coming from. I had to try several times before an outline of a person came into view, however I couldn't tell who it was. I slowly began to sit up and I rubbed my eyes, squinting as I tried to get used to such light. As soon as I realized who it was, I began to cry again, a non-stop flow of tears streaming down my face, as I tore myself from under the covers and frantically lunged myself at the man, disregarding the mess I've made on his side of the bed.  
I wrapped my arms around  _him_ , latching on like my life depended on it and burying my face into his shirt and inhaling his cologne that smelled of books. It wasn't long before his gentle hand reached to my chin and lifted my head, and I once again met with his heterochromatic eyes and his loving smile. I couldn't stop myself from moving my arms around his neck and pulling him down, feeling his soft lips against mine once again, for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. It was a long and desperate kiss, but it was so soft and gentle, I didn't want to pull away but he did, moving my arms so he could hold my hand tightly in his own as I watched his dark black wings sway behind him. I couldn't help but smile through my tears, which he wiped away with his open hand. He moved to my side, an arm around me as we held hands and he beginning to guide me towards the soft and warm light in front of us.

**Author's Note:**

> If you feel like anything I described or have the need to harm yourself or attempt please call these numbers according to where you live.  
> Argentina: +5402234930430  
> Australia: 131114  
> Austria: 017133374  
> Belgium: 106  
> Bosnia & Herzegovina: 080 05 03 05  
> Botswana: 3911270  
> Brazil: 212339191  
> Canada: 5147234000 (Montreal); 18662773553 (outside Montreal)  
> Croatia: 014833888  
> Denmark: +4570201201  
> Egypt: 7621602  
> Estonia: 3726558088; in Russian 3726555688  
> Finland: 010 195 202  
> France: 0145394000  
> Germany: 08001810771  
> Holland: 09000767  
> Hong Kong: +852 2382 0000  
> Hungary: 116123  
> India: 8888817666  
> Ireland: +4408457909090  
> Italy: 800860022  
> Japan: +810352869090  
> Mexico: 5255102550  
> New Zealand: 045861048  
> Norway: +4781533300  
> Philippines: 028969191  
> Poland: 5270000  
> Portugal: 21 854 07 40/8 . 96 898 21 50  
> Russia: 0078202577577  
> Spain: 914590050  
> South Africa: 0514445691  
> Sweden: 46317112400  
> Switzerland: 143  
> United Kingdom: 08457909090  
> USA: 18002738255  
> Veterans' Crisis Line: 1 800 273 8255/ text 838255


End file.
